20
In normal circumstances you wouldn’t contact the person who hired you for a job for days, maybe weeks, afterwards. It’s common sense to keep your distance. Those first few days are the days when the police are most likely to be watching you and your employer. These, evidently, aren’t normal circumstances. John Young called him up about twenty minutes ago, asked to meet him in a cafe halfway across the city. Awkward location. A long way from anyone who might be interested in them. Calum doesn’t go to the west end often – a little out of his price range. Thankfully, Emma had left before Young called. He’s now packing last night’s clothing into a carrier bag, and he’ll dump it in a random bin on his way. It’s the sort of thing he might have done last night, but Emma prevented that.
He’s in the car, trying to find somewhere to park that’s even remotely close to the cafe. He managed to dump the bag in a big green industrial bin that was lurking on a pavement, waiting for a bin man. Now his thoughts are with Young. Another dip in standards. They ought to be keeping their distance, at least for another week. A double killing and he wants to hang out and get a coffee. Obviously he wants a debrief, but he should be more patient. He should be more careful. This isn’t like Young. Jamieson’s hand is pulling the strings here. Young would wait, Calum’s sure. He’s not one for emotion. No matter how important Frank might be to him, he would take the time to do things properly.
He has to walk two streets to find the cafe. Have a cup of coffee with a man you don’t much like. There’s something about Peter Jamieson that makes him almost likeable. His admirable bullishness, maybe. The who-gives-a-shit nature that he lets you see. Most of it’s bluff, but it makes him approachable. Young’s not. He’s a schemer. Calum’s wondered for a while about the night he killed Glen Davidson. How much did Young know beforehand? Calum told Frank that Davidson was sniffing around. He’s sure Frank told Young. He hasn’t asked, because you don’t ask questions, but he’s sure. Young knew Shug was lining Calum up for a hit, and did nothing. He left him exposed when he could have moved him. The little schemer. Calum can see him sitting at a small table in a corner at the back of the cafe as he’s opening the door. Young’s glancing towards him and then looking away.
It smells lovely, this cosy little place full of real wood and broadsheet newspapers. There are a lot of people wearing expensive glasses, sipping coffee that’s more expensive than Calum finds acceptable. Young’s nodding to him to sit down. They’re only just out of range of the nearest drinkers. The waitress is hovering. Calum’s ordering something unpronounceable.
‘I like coming here,’ Young’s saying, once she disappears, ‘no chance of running into other people in the business.’ He’s pausing. ‘Their little blow-up dolls flutter in and out now and again, thinking it makes them classy.’ He’s saying it with a knowing smile, like he knows Calum has a girlfriend now. He almost certainly does know. Knows who she is. Knows she’s not the usual hanger-on. Calum’s saying nothing. Young’s happy knowing what he knows; Calum’s not going to add to it.
The waitress has put a suspiciously small cup in front of Calum and moved on to another table. He’s frowning at it. It’s obvious he doesn’t eat out much. He’s not the kind of person who finds comfort in the company of other people. Young’s smiling, but he’s here for business, and he needs to do it quickly.
‘You did one hell of a job last night,’ he’s saying, almost in a whisper. ‘Tell me what I need to know.’
Calum’s puffing out his cheeks. ‘I got there, knocked on the door. It was Scott who answered. Let me in. He obviously didn’t know who to expect. Did it quick. Him, then his mate. His mate I did side-on, make it look like suicide. Left the gun there. We left. That’s about it.’
Young’s not reacting. Takes years of practice to learn not to react. Young’s never killed anyone. Better to have people like Calum, so cold and detached, who can do that for you. They seem to have no problem with emotional baggage, with nerves. Lucky for them.
‘And how was Frank?’
Calum’s shrugging. ‘He was on the floor. Wasn’t much he could do. Scott had his gun.’
‘Was he calm?’
‘Yeah,’ Calum’s saying, ‘I would say so.’
It’s taken a few seconds for Calum to realize what a big conversation this is. This isn’t just catching up on the interesting events of last night. This is Jamieson and Young trying to work out if they can trust Frank with a job again. This is his future. They want to know if Frank bottled it. They want to know if his health caused the botch. And that’s putting Calum under pressure. What he says will have a big impact. It’ll impact on Frank’s future, of course, but on his own as well. If Frank’s gone, then that’s a lot more work for Calum. He becomes Jamieson’s only gunman. Even if Jamieson brings in someone else, which he eventually will, Calum will now be senior man. The first option on every job. So it serves him to help Frank along here, to try to keep him in the game. He doesn’t want Frank’s share of the work. He doesn’t even want his own.
‘How did it happen?’ Young’s asking him. ‘I haven’t spoken to Frank.’ Letting Calum know that his side of the story comes first. His doesn’t have to tally with Frank’s; Frank’s has to tally with his.
‘Seems like he turned up and they were waiting for him. They must have found out he was after them.’
‘A leak?’ Young’s asking. There’s real concern in that voice now. If it was down to a leak, then Frank would be in the clear and someone else would be clinging to his life by a thread. Anyone who leaked that sort of information from the organization would be a dead man.
‘Don’t know. How many people knew about the hit? Could’ve been a leak, but if you played it close to your chest, then I doubt it. Could’ve been that someone spotted Frank watching them, when he was prepping the job.’
It had to be said. It’s by far the most likely reason they got the jump on Frank. It puts all the pressure back onto Frank, though. It’s his responsibility to scout a target without the target finding out.
‘Once they knew he was after them, he walked into a setup. It happens, I suppose. Hell of a place to do a job anyway, a block of flats like that. Hate them. They knocked him down, but they didn’t have it in them to kill him. When I got there, he was still where they’d dragged him, just inside the door. He was handling it well, I thought. He was cool about it. Kept it quiet. Let me get on with what I had to do. We got down to the car fine. We switched back to his car and he dropped me off at the club.’
Young’s nodding along, but there’s no expression. Not enough detail in the face for Calum to know what he’s thinking. That’ll be deliberate too. Well practised.
They’ve fallen silent. When they’re not talking work, they’re not talking anything. There’s no real relationship there. Something else that’ll change if Frank’s not around any more. It’ll have to. Jamieson will try to pull him closer. There are so many reasons to talk Frank up right now. One good reason not to. Frank botched the job. He shouldn’t have given them any chance to spot him. If he’s making sloppy mistakes, then he’s a danger not just to himself, but to all of them. Calum will look like a liar if he talks Frank up now.
‘You think Frank told them anything?’ Young’s asking.
‘About the business? Nah,’ Calum’s saying, with honest confidence. ‘He wasn’t bawling or anything, he was calm. He won’t have told them a thing. Even if he did, they’re not going to tell anyone now. But I’m sure he didn’t.’
He’s left Young in the cafe, ordering another coffee. Calum’s back at his car now, heading home. He should never have left. Lie low after a job. Keep to a normal routine. Do nothing that stands out. Driving halfway across the city for a ten-minute coffee with John Young stands out. Anyone watching him now knows that he’s up to something unusual. If he was ambitious, then he could have destroyed Frank today. Ended his career. If he liked Frank less, then he could at least have damaged him. Instead, he’s trying to prop up someone who blundered. Dress it up how you like, Frank can’t be trusted with a job. There’s no escaping that.
He’s pulling up beside his flat. It’s all in Jamieson’s hands now. Calum will have nothing more to do with this.